


Fatty Bear's Woes

by SleepyOne



Category: Fatty Bear's Birthday Surprise (Video Game), Putt-Putt (Video Games)
Genre: Crack, Crime, Drugs, Drunken One-Shots, Gen, I wonder if Fatty Bear's been wearing the same overalls for 30 years, If anyone from Humongous is reading this I'm sorry, Life - Freeform, Reality, adulthood is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyOne/pseuds/SleepyOne
Summary: Fatty Bear and Putt-Putt are having a hard time dealing with the reality of life.
Kudos: 2





	Fatty Bear's Woes

**Author's Note:**

> I played almost all of the Humongous games as a kid, and I absolutely loved them. They were probably my gateway into my lifetime of gaming, especially adventure games. I'm guessing kid me never thought I'd end up creating this with some of my most beloved characters, but here we are.

Fatty Bear took a swig from his whiskey bottle. The contents didn’t give the usual bite like they used to. Rather, they now tasted like water.

“How’ve you been doin’, Putt-Putt?” Fatty Bear said as he took another drink.

Putt-Putt gave a sigh. “Not great. Baldini hasn’t had shit going on lately, and I’m running low on supplies.”

“That so? Sucks to hear. Normally I’d offer you some of my own, but with Kayla off in college now, I’m running low myself.”

Fatty Bear lamented what he’d just said. Back when Kayla was just a young girl, he’d had so much more life in him. He had the energy and the will to trove about the neighboring towns and trade for exactly what he needed, whether it was high or low. But these days, his will just wasn’t there.

Putt-Putt seemed to think on his words for a moment. “You ever considered… other options?”

“Like what kinda options?” Fatty Bear pulled a cigarette from the pocket of his red overalls and gave it a light.

“Well… I’m not saying a robbery’s the best option here… But I’m just sayin’... I am a car and I can go pretty damn fast.”

“Shit, Putt-Putt… tell me you ain’t serious with that.”

Putt-Putt pulled a joint from his own dashboard and gave it a light. “Fatty Bear, you know me. You know I ain’t down for livin’ in this shit anymore. I’m down for anything else.” As the tip of his joint glowed brightly, he put it to his lips and inhaled. “Honestly, I’d rather jump on this and die than sit here slowly rotting in a goddamn garage.”

Fatty Bear took a whiff of the joint as Putt-Putt passed it over to him. “That’s fair, that’s fair.” He passed it back to Putt-Putt, then took another glug of his drink.

“So, you in?” Putt-Putt asked him. His voice was gravel-y now, like rocks grinding together through a machine. It was odd; Fatty Bear recalled his old voice, his old naivete, and yet it seemed to be all gone by this point. It was like Putt-Putt had become more than just an adult now; he was a fucking machine.

Fatty Bear hesitated before he finally put his paw forward. “Alright, I’m in,” he said.

The two of them gave a nod, and then began discussing their plans.

The Glurginsons were probably the easiest target in this neighborhood. Not only did they have an enormous house that was bursting with design and contents, but they also seemed to be the unwary type. The type to trust their fellow neighbors, to leave their doors unlocked and their cars parked in the driveway without protection.

On the following night, Fatty Bear sat himself inside Putt-Putt and they rolled down the street to the Glurginsons. As they reached the sidewalk, Fatty Bear spoke up.

“I dunno about this, Putt-Putt. I see lights on upstairs, and it looks like they’ve got something going on in their basement. This ain’t a safe bet.”

“Nah, that’s just how they are, Fatty. I’ve seen this family go on vacation at all times of year, and no matter what they leave that shit on. They think it’s a deterrent.”

“Well I’ve gotta say, it’s working,” Fatty Bear protested. “How do we know they’re not just sitting in there with shotguns, ready for us.”

“Because they’re not that fuckin’ stupid,” Putt-Putt insisted. “No family is gonna sit there guarding their front door like that. They’re gonna trust in the peace of this neighborhood, even if it is shit.”

“Alright… Well, if you think we're good, then let’s roll.”

Putt-Putt didn’t hesitate in the slightest. As soon as Fatty Bear said those words, he pressed his gas pedal to the floor and drove full-speed into the garage door of this house. A crashing BANG rang out, followed by the tumbling of any objects that were situated upon the wall and ceiling that Putt-Putt just rammed.

“Jesus christ, Putt-Putt!” Fatty Bear exclaimed. “I was fine with going in here, but you didn’t have to do it that hard!”

Putt-Putt pulled out another joint and inhaled deeply. “You gotta do what you gotta do, old Bear,” he responded.

Fatty Bear hopped out of his seat inside Putt-Putt and took a look at the garage they’d just crashed into. There was quite a bit in here, though the dim lighting didn’t aid in his vision. On the left wall he saw clear glass containers with water inside them and various parts floating about - nothing particularly of interest. Towards the back wall there was a door that he assumed led directly into the house, along with stacks of camping equipment. And then finally, along the righthand wall, he noticed something else… Something that he’d been looking for… It was crates, and they were only labeled “X.”

“A-ha!” Fatty Bear said as he grabbed one of the containers from the shelf. He pulled it down and slammed it onto the garage’s concrete floor before opening it.

“Is that what I think it is?” Putt-Putt said as he rolled forward, his purpleness gleaming with excitement.

Fatty Bear hoped that was exactly what it was. The container was tightly sealed, but he gave it a heaving haul and ripped the lid off with his thick bear biceps. And inside was… was…

“This is IT!” Fatty Bear cried to Putt-Putt.

“You’re joking…!”

Fatty Bear wasn’t joking, though. He pulled a large white brick from the container and placed it on a nearby tool bench that was also setup in the garage.

“This is it…” he said again. “This is 100% pure white, straight from the source.” He broke off a tiny piece of one of the corners of the brick and smoothed it along the surface of the workbench. It was like a delicious meal placed before him. He then put a finger to his left nostril and snorted the entirety of it with his right nostril, nearly crying out as he did so from the pleasure of it.

“Fatty Bear… You were right…” Putt-Putt said.

Fatty Bear was already fucked. He took a look at the brick he’d just snorted a portion of, grabbed it in his thick bear hands, and broke it in half so Putt-Putt could have a go.

Putt-Putt gave the widest smile he’d ever seen at this. He smeared a corner of the brick onto his hood, then gave the deepest inhale Fatty Bear had ever seen. Afterwards, Putt-Putt’s hood and face were both smeared with a beautiful whiteness. And neither of them cared, for they were now in paradise.

They left behind the garage of the neighbor they’d raided, white bricks in hand, and made their way to a nearby field where they could continue snorting and discussing their stories.

Fatty Bear was the first to lay his ass down in the field, pressed against the tall reeds that grew there.

“Putt-Putt, you ever think… like… you think like you just wanna fucking eat the whole world?”

Putt-Putt rolled over onto his car back, some of his fluids spilling out along the way. “You don’t even know, Fatty… Sometimes I feel like… I’m already the fucking king, because I’m a fucking car, and I could fucking crush all your asses…”

“Sometimes I feel like I’ve already crushed all your asses,” Fatty Bear started. “And then sometimes… I feel like my own ass has been crushed itself…” he trailed off, thinking about Kayla and where she might be now in her college career.

“Shit Fatty… You’re gettin’ too real on me now. Here, have another.” Putt-Putt held out the entire brick of white to Fatty Bear, with a simultaneous look of kindness and seriousness on his purple face.

Fatty Bear wasn’t one to turn down kindness. He took another large chunk of the brick and cut it in half. Half he stuffed into the pockets of his baggy overalls, and the other half he immediately shoved up his narrow bear nose, hard and fast, hoping it would dull the pain he felt about Kayla, about this family, about his fucking bear life.


End file.
